


this is a modern fairy tale (no happy ending)

by PrincezzShell101



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Sad Ending, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 09:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7166579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincezzShell101/pseuds/PrincezzShell101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gives his life for Derek, loving the man and never knowing that he's loved back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is a modern fairy tale (no happy ending)

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the prompt "Your character is given the choice to either die an excruciatingly painful death or have one of their loved ones die in a painless way. Do they save their loved one’s life or their own?"
> 
> This made me sad but I had to get it off of my chest.

"Now, who shall it be?" the witch cackles. Her breath is stale, her grey shrivelled skin hanging loosely off of her bones. It's very obvious that she is malnourished, weak and dying.

Stiles takes a step forward. "Me. Leave him out of this."

"What are you doing? You're going to get yourself killed!" Derek hisses, beta blue eyes glowing brightly in the murky night.

Stiles nods, smiling grimly. "But it'll save you." He holds his hands out to the witch. "Just get it over with. Please."

"No!  _Stiles_!"

Stiles closes his eyes, preparing for the gentle pull of his spark leaving him. It's meant to be a peaceful death, the witch had told him, to save the one he loves from dying an excruciating death in his place.

"There,  _there_ , that's it," the witch purrs. "Easy does it."

He feels his spark inside his chest, floating gracefully, effortlessly being pulled outward. It's calming, not painful at all.  _Huh_. For once a supposedly evil creature is doing as they promi—

" _Mine_ ," the witch says suddenly, tone going from sweet and sincere to dark and malicious.

Stiles gasps, eyes opening in a rush. He feels his spark ignite, boiling under his skin. Then a sharp, agonising twinge that's as quick as lightning, almost like his heart has been ripped right out of his chest.

"W-Wha—" he chokes, finding it hard to breathe. It's like his body is broken, unable to function. "Wha— … —ave you… d-done."

The witch grins, her once-cracked teeth now shining. Her skin has changed colour, retaining what seems to be a youthful glow. Her hair is black, not white. She's…

"Oh nothing dearie, I just stole your life force," she giggles. "Better prepare yourself. You're in for a long, slow death," she whispers smugly before vanishing without a trace.

"Bitch," Stiles croaks, clutching a hand to his chest. His heart is beating too fast. His head is swimming. His skin is overheating.

Wait… is that the ground getting closer to his face?

The ground is hard against his back, rocks digging into his spine, but it's nothing compared to the feeling of his insides bubbling like lava. His head lolls forward sharply as hands pull his body off of the ground, eyes the colour of fresh mint boring into his own, wild with terror.

"Why did you have to do that?" Derek growls. Stiles can feel him shaking, the werewolf's chest rising and falling with heaving breaths. He tries to smile but his teeth clench, blood filling his mouth.

"'Cause you were going to die, sourwolf," he chuckles. Derek tenses at the nickname and Stiles's eyes tear up, both from the pain and the knowledge that these just may be his last words to the man.

"So you should have let me!" he shouts. Stiles shakes his head, coughing up a mouthful of blood. Derek's thumb wipes away the leftover trail of wet blood from his lip.

"You know I couldn't," he whispers. His insides are twisting. Can you even feel your insides do that? Stiles doesn't know but he's pretty sure he is. "Dying does suck though, man," he vouches softly, groaning with a grimace.

"I can take your pain," Derek rushes out, grasping Stiles's hand and squeezing tightly. Dark ink traces its way through his veins and Stiles watches him hiss out an agonised moan.

"Stop that!" he yells, sobbing when the action feels like a knife stabbing him all over. "Please," he begs. "Don't. You know it's too late."

Derek doesn't move his hand. If anything, his grip tightens.

Stiles hates that Derek is hurting because of him. He  _hates_ it. He did this so Derek wouldn't be hurting and now  _he_ is the one causing the hurt. In that moment, he loathes himself and wishes he had died as soon as the witch had stolen his spark.

"You never give up, do you?" he murmurs. Talking is almost impossible now. His tongue is numb and his sight is going blurry.

"You shouldn't either," Derek replies, voice strained as he leeches Stiles's pain. "You're too strong to give up. Stiles.  _Please_. Don't go. Don't  _give up_."

Stiles feels the tear sliding down his face, hears his breath rasping in his lungs, sees the fuzzy shape of Derek instead of a clear image. He inhales slowly, insides twisting themselves even further as he opens his mouth and speaks.

"I don't have a choice."

"No!  _Stiles_!"

"I'm sorry…"

Derek lets out a choked cry when the pain he's leeching stops, veins receding. The boy's body is warm, too warm.

"No, no, no, you can't do this," he gasps, hand cupping Stiles's face. " _Stiles_ , come back.  _I love you_."

Stiles's eyes are open, staring up at him. Lifeless and empty. Blood stains his teeth, a dry smudge of it on his cheek.

Derek roars, howls,  _screams_ into the night.

Kate, his family dying, Erica, Boyd; nothing hurts as much as this.

***

When Scott, Lydia and Liam arrive after hearing the noise they stumble into the clearing. Both Scott and Lydia let out sounds of pure grief themselves, Liam blinking in sadness but also confusion.

A huge black wolf lies curled up on the ground, its muzzle wobbling as it lets out loud whines and whimpers. Scott is the one to notice how it's wrapped around something, almost as if it's protecting it.

"What is that?" Liam asks, voice hesitant.

Scott walks up to the wolf, getting only a few steps before its head snaps up and its whines and whimpers turn into spitted growls. "Hey, hey, it's okay buddy."

"Is that…" Lydia begins to say in fear, but Scott already knows. He takes another step, stopping as the wolf's fur bristles and its hackles rise.

"Derek, let him go," he says gently.

Derek whines, hackles lowering instantly. He shakes his head, howling up at the sky in high, sorrowful notes.

"Oh, sweetie," Lydia whispers, biting her lip. She sniffles, tears running down her face.

Liam shuffles his feet, jaw clenched as he fights back tears.

Scott's eyes water at the sight, understanding why Derek will not leave his best friend's corpse.

Stiles was Derek's mate.


End file.
